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Sereth Arian
Handle: Kura Description Age: 19 Homeland: Andor Height: 5'11 Build: Muscular Eye/Hair Color: blue/brown Distinguishing Marks: None, he fits in well with a crowd. History Sereth was born a merchants son, a family comfortable in its middle-class existence. They didn't have to worry about tax collectors, or where the next meal would come from. They even had Sereth educated from a young age. He was taught by a variety of teachers, experts in history, language, both the new and old tongues, they he never really caught on to the subtleties of that ancient language. Another class was added when he was 16, philosophy, though not in the common sense. His teacher always wore a smile, and long black robes. He was prone to fits of insane laughter, and often muttered that they were coming for him. His parents distrusted the obviously insane man, but none the less recognized something. He was a genius. Between mad bouts of laughter, and streaks of intense paranoia, he'd say the most profound things about life, the creator, existence, and especially the power. Yes, his favorite subject, and young Sereth's as well. They'd spend hours discussing the True Source, Saidin in particular. What did it take to channel, why were some born with the ability, and others had to be taught? So many questions, and most without an answer, but still the young Andorian child grew up with a broad insight, skeptical and intelligent, it was obvious his mind would lead him to great places. He'd even learned supreme concentration techniques, one called 'The Flame and the Void.' Through all this time, he had never learned the man's name… His parents were proud of the boy, who was fast becoming a man, and tolerated the insane teacher only, because he was the reason for the flowering mind of the child. He continued his lessons, and on his nineteenth birthday, news spread through Camelyn. The Dragon Reborn had declared amnesty for all male channalers. When that news hit the ears of the teacher's ears, the widest grin Sereth had ever seen appeared on his lips, and he took his young student to the attic of his family's house. He said nothing, but pulled a candle from a cabinet, and set it on a wooden table. The cloaked man took stood in front of the candle, block the view of it from Sereth, when he moved, it was lit. "Concentrate on the flame, Sereth. Concentrate with all your will." Sereth, used to such obscure things as the beginnings of profound conversations, didn't question. He sat there for a long time, if asked; he couldn't tell you how long. All he truly remembered was the dancing flame, and then, the mad laughter of his Mentor. "Sereth! You can! You can do it! You can channel Saidin!" A smile crept across his face, and with that knowledge in mind, he set out for Tear. He had heard of something called 'The Black Tower' there. Category:Soldier Bios Category:Black Tower Bios Category:Biographies